From the eco-loo composting toilet,
To being bathed in sunlight as the morning comes.
Nothing is as special as talking together,
And this, at least, truly got done.
From the kettle boiling with a whistle,
To evenings spent by fireside.
Losing scrabble made her bristle,
72 points and a little lost pride.
Playing tips with Bobby and Sonnet,
Walking (not running) as we seek to explore,
A dusty dress thrown upon the bonnet,
Honey Hut, you truly are,
The place we adore! !
Thanks Mick and Fiona,
And our feathered and furry friends,
Although the weekend is over,
These memories will never end.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem